


The aftermath of the battle

by Clementines



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:52:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1552769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clementines/pseuds/Clementines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to write something much happier and lighter but the writer ends up going where the story takes him. <br/>Ps: we won 5-0!</p>
    </blockquote>





	The aftermath of the battle

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something much happier and lighter but the writer ends up going where the story takes him.   
> Ps: we won 5-0!

Munich

0-4. Cristiano couldn’t believe it, not even in his wildest dreams did he imagine that scenario. 0-4 against fucking Bayern Munich, la bestia negra. Maybe Fáb was right after all; maybe luck was finally on their side. 

Speaking of Fáb, where the hell was he? The bus was on the brink of leaving for the airport and there was still no sign of the blond. Nobody seemed to notice; they were in their little own world of fantasy and happiness. Cristiano hesitated; should he prevent the team that they were leaving without their defender? Maybe it would teach him not to be always the lost one but then the journey to Madrid would lack something, thought Cristiano. He was still pondering those thoughts when a blond head appeared out of nowhere running towards the bus. Cristiano had to smile; the blond looked like a boy on the verge of losing the bus to school. If you took someone who didn’t know him, never in a million years would he believe that this guy –this eternally disconcerted and disconcerting guy- had just won a semi finale against Bayern Munich in the Allianz Arena. He could stop one of the fastest players in the world, Arjen Robben, but he couldn’t get to the bus on time; that’s Fábio Coentrao for you ladies and gentlemen. Cristiano shook his head at his own thoughts. Luck may be on their side now but some things never change and he was grateful for that. 

When the blond arrives to the seat next to Cristiano, he is faced with an expression of playful disapprobation.

“What the hell were you doing?”

The answer was a shrug.

“Getting dressed.”

Cristiano snorted.

“Man, you take more time to get dressed than Irina herself.”

“Well, unless I take more time than yourself I haven’t got the record just yet.”

The blond takes the seat next to the best player of the world totally unfazed. To him, Cristiano was just plain old Cristiano and he could tell him to fuck off any time he felt like it. Fabio was still trying to catch his breath when he asked:

“Didn’t you notice I was missing? We sit together on every bus ride. How in the world couldn’t you have noticed?”

“Are you insulting me? Of course I noticed, I was the only one to do.”

“Oh, great. So you did notice I was missing but you decided to leave me in Munich without a word.”

Cristiano smiles and puts his arm around Fabio’s shoulders.

“Nope, I was just messing with the idea of leaving you here. I would have said something if the bus had actually left. I am the one supposed to take you home from Barajas after all, aren’t I?”

Fabio looks at his best friend as if trying to decipher some big secret. 

“You’re a dick.”

The sentence earns a good chuckle from Cristiano. After that, they fall into a comfortable silence belonging to two persons who just know each other by heart. 

 

On the plane

 

Everyone is surprisingly quiet on the plane. They are simply spent; the effort of the match, the celebration in the privacy of the locker room and the ride on the bus had been exhausting. Calm was everything left on that plane. 

Cristiano, however, couldn’t accept that. He was never the type to be calm after all. His head was going crazy with hundreds of images; the ones that had just took place and the ones who had yet to happen. He needed some company if he didn’t want to go crazy. 

The person on his left, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem. Fábio was deeply asleep, his head resting on a big white cushion. He was the living image of peace. As much as Cristiano was pleased with the nice image in front of his eyes, he really wanted some company. How could his friend sleep after what had just went down?

Cristiano turns his head and finds Marcelo looking at him. Marcelo is awake. He’s smiling and waving, just kind of inviting Cristiano over that part of the plane. The Portuguese considers briefly the idea; Marcelo is, after all, a guy he likes a lot. He talks the same language, he is funny, easy going and nobody has a better connection with him on the field. Once upon a time he was Cristiano’s best friend on the team. Once upon a time, he was. Then he said Cris wasn’t the best player in the world, lied to his face about it and hell broke loose. 

They were big persons, they had both overcame that stupid feud. Things, however, had never returned to their previous state. Time had passed and things between Cristiano and Marcelo were great, just not the same as they once were. 

The certain blond sleeping currently next to him wasn’t totally stranger to that transformation in the relationship. He had slowly but successfully replaced Marcelo’s as Cristiano’s best friend. Then he created a place for himself no other had; not even Pepe or Marcelo. They just clicked; Xabi had explained it to Cristiano once, it was about something called complementarity. 

With Marcelo he had fun, with Fábio it was so much more. To top it all, his best friend and ex best friend competed for the exact same place on the field; it wasn’t exactly the easiest situation in the world for him. He had been extremely careful to never give Fábio the impression that he chose Marcelo over him. The whole world could doubt him, the whole world had, but Cristiano? He would never do so, never. So he finally waves back at Marcelo, smiles kindly at him and turns around again to wake Fábio up. Yes, he wants some company on the journey to Madrid but he wants his company, no one else’s. 

His gesture is received by a loud grunt. Cristiano is by now deeply convinced that Fábio could sleep through a nuclear war if he tried. 

“What the hell Cris? Are we going to crash? I hope so because if you woke me up for any other reason, I’ll kill you. After the world championship but I’ll kill you.”

“I’m bored. I can’t sleep. I just want some company.”

“Ugh. I swear sometimes you’re worst than our kids.”

Fábio complains and grunts but he still stifle his yawns and faces Cristiano who smiles at him as a five year old.

“It was a beautiful night.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“We passed.”

“We did.”

“We did it as señores.”

“Indeed.” 

“I got the record.”

“Of course you did.”

“Aren’t you going to complete a single sentence?”

“Don’t push it.”

That’s when Fáb’s phone interrupts their childish conversation. 

“Who’s that?”

“What are you, my wife?”

“Well, I do spend more time with you than she does.  
“It’s Jorge.”

Cristiano immediately takes Fábio’s phone without asking for permission.

“Monaco?”

Fábio looks down embarassed.

“There are some clubs interested; Manchester United, Milan and some others but Monaco seems very serious about it.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“Well, I should have left in January, remember? If I’m still here it’s only because of an administrative mistake.”

“But you stayed and things have changed a lot since January. People love you now, you’re back at your best level and happy. Why the hell would you leave?”

“Cris, the fact that I’ve done four good matches doesn’t mean they want me to stay.”

Cristiano sighs.

“You don’t know that. But I see you’ve already made your choice.”

Great, thinks Fábio. Cristiano sulking.

“It’s not like that but I have to keep an eye out about my future.”

No answer.

“Oh, come on. You were just talking about how great the night was. Let’s not ruin it because of this.”

Still no answer.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment?”

A shrug. 

“Cris, don’t be like that.”

“My life is just so fucking amazing right now; I don’t want things to change.”

“What about my life?”

Cristiano looks at his friend deeply in the eyes.

“You’re playing titular in the best team of the world and I am in your life; it doesn’t get any better than that, you know?”

Fábio has to chuckle at that, his friend is back. 

“Just so you know, I’m not going to give up without a battle.”

“Oh but I didn’t expect any less from you.”

 

Madrid

 

“What now?”

Fábio looks at Cristiano not understanding what he means. 

“What do you mean “what now”?

“We’ve got twenty four days until the finale. In Lisbon man, we’re going home.”

“Yeah and it’s going to be amazing but that’s in twenty four days.”

Fábio takes Cristiano’s hand into his and whispers:

“One day at a time Cris, one day at a time. You say your life is perfect, just enjoy it now.”

“Why not tomorrow?”

Fáb smiles that smile that says “I know a big secret about humanity you don’t have any idea about yet, kid.”

“The fact that you have something today doesn’t mean you’ll still have it tomorrow.”

He then bends and kisses him lightly on the neck, wishing they had stayed the night in Munich, and gets into his home were everyone sleeps carefully at five a.m. 

Cristiano is left wondering; he didn’t like much the sound of those last words. He had two months to change Fáb’s mind and he had every intention of succeeding; until then, he still had tonight. He would always have tonight. The night they destroyed Bayern Munich and some of the worst ghosts of Real Madrid’s history. Tomorrow, tomorrow we’ll see.


End file.
